Clannish

Mar 07, 2002
I'm like a wolf. I protect my own. It used to be I ran alone. But that was then, and this is now. Duran Duran, I'm crazy like a cow. Seriously though, I feel as if I've assumed a paternalish role in my downtown posse.

When you're drunk off your ass at 4am, who do ya call? Evan! When your car needs a jump, who do ya call? Evan! When ya need a laugh or wanna throw back a few beers, who do ya call? Evan!

Feeling useful and needed and wanted is really important to me. I love that the people that I care about can count on me. I love how my cell phone goes bling-bling-bling with people wanting to chill. I feel necessary. I feel like a big ole cog in the social dynamic. Gears meshing with gears, turning around, making the whole damn thing hum.
It's the opposite of suicide.

When I meet someone new I find myself asking, "do you know so-and-so?", "do you frequent here-or-there?". Austin is such a tightly-knit community that the answer is very often, "yes". And I love it. I get a little rush the moment I realize that the person is part of the fabric of my world already. Even if they're a small pattern way off near the edge. When I was young my mother had these thick cotton blankets. Way up on the top edge of the blanket there was a few inches of ghetto-silk. It was soft and smoothe and I liked rubbing my face on it when I snuggled into bed. It's a lot like that.

When I first moved here (Austin) I had a lot of trouble finding quality people to being into my fold. Also, I made a conscious effort to keep my friends separated. I previously had experiences where, when I introduced friends to friends, they ran off with each other leaving me high and dry. Minus the high. I was a good clean-cut kiddo. I was sore about the whole abandonment thing when I moved here, so I ended up bringing a little piece of New York with me.

Recently I've been relatively balsy, or experimental at least. I've been introducing friends to friends. The results have been alchemic. I see more of my friends more, they see each other more, and I become the speck of proverbial dust that the friendship crystal forms around. I think I should talk to my doctor about metaphor-suppressing drugs. I have health insurance now, you know? ;-)

Thanks, Kelly, for dropping some serious quality-control on koax.org. I'll try not to get so excited about computer-y things ever again.